


3 times the soldier got off and the 1 time he didn’t

by Hydra_Trash_Gal



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Extremely Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Three plus One, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-28 19:06:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19400497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hydra_Trash_Gal/pseuds/Hydra_Trash_Gal
Summary: the soldier’s reward system isn’t exactly for everyone.





	3 times the soldier got off and the 1 time he didn’t

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed all warnings. Extremely dubious content and possibly triggering.

1 - Steve 

Sleeping the whole night through was a rare treat since he was thawed. 

It was more than just the plush bed, more than just his mind not shutting down. It was the dreams and the memories that wove between them… It was that feeling of grasping at empty space, of choking on water and the smell of blood from the battle field. Echoing screams of his men and squealing metal as it hit the water.

Sleeping the whole night through was impossible this particular night. 

Steve turned to bury his face in his arm, mind running a thousand miles a minute. The serum gave him so much energy it was impossible to burn it all off within the day. Chemical aids helped but he metabolized them so rapidly they didn’t help him stay asleep. 

When Bucky first came to the Tower Steve didn’t think much of his insomnia. He was always on edge, prepared for the mission to murder him and his friends to get kicked back into gear… 

It didn’t, of course.

It was his pal, his Bucky and he wouldn’t have ever hurt anyone willingly. There was still a long way to go before he was anything close to the man Steve once knew but this side of Bucky was just as much him as the one who called him punk and helped him meet girls at the dance halls.

Steve wasn’t surprised to hear footsteps in the living room. Bucky paced at night. Steve was absolutely itching to ask if it was for the same reason but he knew better than to upset the balance between them. Bucky came to Steve when he wanted to talk or ask questions or to grill him about past or modern times. Otherwise Bucky was free to stay buried in his thoughts for however long it took for him to sort them through. 

The footsteps came to his door and retreated. 

Once, twice, three times… Steve counted because it was highly unusual. Bucky’s room was down the hall but he was stopping too short to be walking the length of the hallway. There were also no windows and Bucky liked to stare down at Manhattan while he was in thought. 

The door creaked open and Bucky walked to the edge of the bed. Steve rolled over and found himself face level with a painfully obvious tenting of Bucky’s sweatpants. 

Steve’s face colored as he looked away quickly, sitting up. “Uh hey Bucky,” Steve mumbled. “You okay?”

He told himself it wasn’t a big deal. They both had the same parts and sometimes he woke up to ‘issues’ like that. Steve knew enough not to bring it to his best friend but Bucky…he got confused sometimes. 

“Can I lay with you?” Bucky requested, voice just barely above a whisper. “We used to, right?”

Steve wasn’t so sure it was a good idea. 

Back in Brooklyn they had a bed they shared because the apartment was so damn small and Bucky worked nights while Steve worked days. Rarely did the two fall in bed together, especially with a perfectly functioning couch but when it was really cold and Steve was sick, Bucky would lay in bed to him stay warm. It wasn’t the sort of thing you wanted to people to know about back then. They would’ve gotten ideas. 

Nowadays it probably didn’t matter so much. No one was going to get court martialed and executed for it and besides, they weren’t queer. Steve flinched because he had been trying not to think about Bucky’s problem and also because Tony had said that word wasn’t supposed to be used anymore and was hurtful.

“Sure, Buck.” 

He pushed a pillow to the side and folded back the blanket. They were fully dressed, there wasn’t anything funny about it. Bucky laid down and pulled the covers around him. Two bodies took up more of the bed than expected, his heat radiating toward Steve who was red in the face and trying not to look at the lump in the blankets. Steve wanted to tell him to show some decency and take care of that in the bathroom but he didn’t want to hurt his feelings or hinder any progress. 

He must have really trusted Steve if he came to him like that. 

“Couldn’t sleep huh? Me neither,” Steve looked at the shadowy corners of the room. 

“It hurts.”

It took Steve all of half a second to know what he was talking about. His face turned red and nope, he was going to tell Bucky he needed to go and take care of himself in the shower if he was uncomfortable. It wasn’t supposed to hurt. 

“Oh you should — ”

“Knowing they’re all gone away. My ma, our old friends, soon the Commandos.”

Steve throat stuck uncomfortably as his heart clenched up in loss. 

“I know. Peggy's getting real bad, I almost — ”

Bucky rolled to face him suddenly, catching him by surprise but his eyes were glazed over. 

“Peggy was a real nice lady, Steve. Shame isn’t it?”

Steve blinked away tears. “She lived a full life and I’m happy for her.” Steve said. “I just wish… I dunno, that we had more time. It goes by — it went by so fast, Buck. I fell asleep and then… I woke up in a crazy world with picture phones and everyone I know gone.”

Bucky hugged him and Steve allowed himself half a sob before his entire body stiffened up at the way Bucky’s hips were gyrating against his thigh. 

Steve opened his mouth to stop him but found himself speechless. Bucky panted as he held onto Steve, not tight enough to hurt but too firmly for Steve to back away from. Their pajama pants were too thin and Steve could feel the heavy heat of the engorge piece of flesh rubbing against his thigh explicitly. 

Bucky’s semen was copious and very warm against Steve’s skin and he laid there and hoped it was all a nightmare. Bucky shuddered as he orgasmed, grunting quietly in Steve’s ear. The fluids were cooling against his skin as he Bucky rolled away. 

“Peggy was a real nice lady,” Bucky said and promptly fell asleep.

Steve was still shell shocked by what had happened. The semen was growing cold and oh God, Bucky had just cum in Steve’s bed as though it was perfectly acceptable. Steve stared at the ceiling wondering how he was meant to explain this to Bucky when he woke up but…it felt like the wrong thing to do, somehow.

Bucky didn’t know any better and it had only happened once. Why humiliate both of them for something that was one-time and accidental?

Steve rolled out of bed, out his pants down the laundry shoot and washed the spot where it had gotten through his pants with a warm wet cloth.

If for some reason it became a habit then he and Bucky would need to chat about it but so long as Bucky kept his self-ruining to himself like everyone else did, Steve was more than happy to pretend tonight never happened. 

2 - Clint

Clint went into the vent system whenever he was feeling stressed or overwhelmed. 

Stark Tower could boast the best interconnected system in the world but Clint was certain Tony didn’t exactly approve of his air-duct presence. Regardless Clint had made a temporary nest where he kept blankets and enough rations and water to last him a few weeks. 

Sometimes he had to disappear for a while. 

These ducts were larger, cleaner and vastly better than the ones he’d been lurking around in the past. No mice scurried along them which was a bit of a bummer at first because Clint had grown fond of watching them back base. He’d gotten the fat gray one to come up to him and take bits of his protein bar from his hand. 

Coulson probably would have scolded him for further encouraging the issue of mice but Coulson was dead so Clint did whatever he wanted up there. 

Clint practically face planted onto the mound of pillows when he reached his destination. He was uttered exhausted, his ribs wrapped tightly from a break. Hill had argued passionately that it was his fault he’d taken a tumble from the perch after making his shot. Apparently being fired at by enemies was not a good excuse according to Shield Protocol.

He scoffed to himself. He may have been stuck on leave for two weeks but bullet holes took a helluva lot longer to heal than ribs. Plus wound care was a bitch and Clint hated hospitals. He rolled over gingerly and stared down through Tony’s lab grate. It wasn’t spying, just observing. Besides, his vantage point only showed what he could have seen sitting in front of the glass doors. Bruce’s side felt like more of an intrusion so Clint only peeked in when he knew the man was meditating or filing in endless sudoku squares while waiting for his experiments to finish cooking or whatever it was they did in those beakers. 

Tony was taking apart a teeny device wearing those ridiculous welding goggles on the top of his head and ranting heated under his breath to himself. It was too low to make out and his face was turned down toward his project so Clint couldn’t read his lips. 

Clint closed his eyes — the painkillers always made him tired. 

He was awake in a second once a second body entered his space. Clint knew that this was not an ideal place to be trapped but then again, no enemies had breached the Stark Tower as of yet. He cracked open his bleary eyes expecting Nat or Tony himself. 

Instead Barnes was sitting back on his haunches, staring at him. 

Clint glanced down the grate walls where Tony had a larger item in front of him now that he was putting together. 

He read the body language of the man — Barnes was resting on the balls of his feet seeming as puzzled as Clint currently was. Neither man spoke well aware that it would be overheard. Did Barnes sometimes need to hide away too? Clint figured it made sense, even though his heart was hammering as he stared at the metal hand. He was at an extreme disadvantage, no weapons near him. Barnes sat back on his heels, hardly making a sound. His hands fumbled together a moment. 

The Winter Soldier knew sign — who would have thought Hydra would be ADA compliant. 

‘I AM BUCKY’

Barnes spelled it out letter by letter. Clint propped himself up on his elbows, silently hissing as how tender his ribs were. 

The two had met plenty in the past but sure, introductions were cool. Especially if it delayed his murder. Clint signed his name and waited. Then he waited some more because Barnes was just looking at him. Clint fidgeted a moment, considering pushing out the grate to escape and dealing with Tony’s raving. His nest would be exposed but he would be alive. 

Clint’s eyes caught the corner of a meal bar and on instinct, tentatively offered it out to the Soldier. 

It was a good ‘don’t kill me, I’ll give you food’ attempt and he was patting himself on his back when Barnes took it and peeled away the wrapper. He glared at the bar, turning it over critically before he abruptly decided Clint was not out to poison him and stuffed the entire thing in his mouth. 

Clint was as impressed as he was amused. With a few animated gulps Barnes was back to sitting and staring. He didn’t have to worry much about restocking so he pulled out another bar. The one got the same investigation before it went down the hatch. Clint caught movement in the corner of his eye and watched Tony throw a wrench at something. It bounced back and knocked over something it clearly wasn’t meant to because Tony looked even more pissed off and just a bit exasperated. 

It was these moments that made Clint happy he observed. He glanced at Barnes and beckoned him closer, pointing. Anyone could enjoy an eccentric Tony Stark, even recently thawed out super assassins. Clint put a finger over his lips, just in case Barnes hadn’t gotten the memo. 

Barnes moved closer and they both watched the genius’ mini melt down. Bruce made an appearance not long after looking a bit annoyed. Clint could read Tony saying something to the effect of ‘I made it so I can break it if I want to’. 

Barnes was prodding at the bedding with a bemused look on his face. Clint was about to sign that he doesn’t actually live up here, just hung out sometimes but Barnes signed out, ‘SLEEP’.

Clint found himself mystified on if he was asking if Clint slept up here or if he could sleep up here. It was uncomfortable to have anyone in his space but it was also a little embarrassing to admit that yes, as a fully grown man, a professionally trained private agent, a damn superhero according to the general public, slept up in the vents sometimes. It wasn’t like he didn’t have proper housing. Clint had a bed and a bedroom and whole entire apartment to call his own but no, he had retreated to an air duct because he was upset about being stuck to the side. 

‘Me?’ Clint signed hesitantly.

Barnes inclined his head and Clint also nodded. Barnes’ frowned and then reached down to tug a pillow a bit closer to him. 

‘BUCKY SLEEP’

No. Absolutely not. This was his space, not some open area where he invited just anyone. Clint knew it was a ridiculous reaction to be so defensive. Also how the hell was he supposed to refuse without his spot being found out? 

‘Here?’ 

Bucky nodded his head and Clint ran a hand over his face. It wasn’t a big deal, he told himself. It was weird for damned sure but Clint had shared a bedroll with teammates in the past. That was just an occupational hazard and there was no reason to make a big deal about it. Besides, maybe Barnes was lonely. 

‘If you want’

He didn’t take up much space, lying down and staring at the wall. Clint sat there for a few moments considering abandoning the nest and letting Cap know his best friend was squirreling himself away. Then he considered how he would have felt if Bucky had found him and immediately ratted him out.

His head still felt foggy from the pills so he laid down tentatively, rolling to face the wall. Back-to-back was the polite thing for anyone who had served and clearly Barnes had remembered. He wouldn’t have made a habit of turning his back on someone who didn’t complete trust but Bucky had every chance to murder him before now. 

He drifted off easily enough. When he woke up it because Barnes had shifted and his gun was digging into his back. Except Barnes allowed any weapons and with a heaviness settling in his chest, Clint was fairly certain it wasn’t a gun after all. 

He tried to shift away to minimize contact. Such things happened at night, no need to embarrass the guy about it. It could have been amusing, had it been someone more mentally stable. The space was limited and his ribs were beginning to ache because lying on metal was not at all medically advisable. Barnes just shifted with him and continued to rut against Clint, grinding his crotch against the small of his back. 

Clint didn’t know what to say — or sign seeing as Tony was still below them. The reactor glowed brightly behind the weave of a white wife beater. Clint pondered on what a terrible name for a shirt that was and if tank top was a comparable alternative. 

He remembered how to disassociate and it was frighteningly easy to pretend he was alone and safe on this space. He ignored the helplessness, a feeling he had thought he was free from forever when Barney got him out of the circus. 

He wasn’t sure when Barnes finished rutting against him. He kept staring down at Tony, watching him working diligently, devotedly, and sometimes distractedly when he tapped his fingers to a beat on the table and watched his robots bump into things in their haste to follow a set of instructions. 

It wasn’t a big deal, he told himself again and again. Bucky hadn’t hurt him and Clint had found himself doing all sorts of strange things after he came back from Loki’s control. Not rubbing against his team members weird but he remembered wandering half dressed because he forgot that pants and underwear were a thing. 

He laughed about it now — Steve had been the first one to catch sight, poor guy. He had been nice about it, very Captain America-y as he corralled him back to his floor politely let firmly despite Clint’s protests of confusion before any ladies caught sight. 

When Clint came to the sudden realization that yeah, his dick was kinda out, he had been utterly mortified but Rogers was polite about it. 

Clint could be polite about this. 

He wasn’t aggressive or trying to undress him — if he did Clint sure as hell would fight back (or so he told himself but before he always said that and had much really changed?). But it seemed...polite just to let him do his thing. Hell, he probably had no idea what was even happening down there. In the war soldiers probably did shit like this to keep each other company and this was, what, a sign of trust?

It didn’t make it any less awkward however or remind Clint of things he tried so hard to forget. Bucky’s breathing hitched and Clint wanted to bury his face in his hands at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. It served him right by letting him into the nest. Clint was just glad that the Soldier was wearing jeans because had any super soldier jizz touched him…he would no longer be responsible for his actions. 

Still, Clint didn’t want to embarrass the guy or actually confront the suffocating feeling of helplessness that it was resurfacing. 

Clint figured the best way to avoid the entire situation, the actual trauma of it and the self loathing of not doing something about it later, was to commit himself to pretending it wasn’t happening. 

It worked when he was younger. 

Barnes stuck around for as long as it took Tony to shove some lo mein that looked incredibly good down his throat after Pepper presented him in a very aggressive fashion. 

When Barnes shifted upward Clint couldn’t help but look at him even though it pained him to do so. He expected something, anything to recognize what he’d done but there was no shame or guilt or achievement on his face. 

Just a vacancy that made Clint wonder if anyone was actually home. 

‘BYE’

Then Barnes vanished around the corner and Clint exhaled, tilting his head back. In a way he felt relieved, while also incredibly dirty and desperately began mentally mapping a new nesting spot. 

Still Clint had to wonder: What. The. Fuck.

3 - Tony 

He raised objections at the mere mention of having James sent on an Avengers op with them. 

It didn’t matter that it was a simple one and there was less than a one percent chance of any civilian interference, Tony didn’t trust Barnes completely yet. He was a decent guy, hadn’t been violent once since he arrived and typically kept to himself but Tony knew how easily it was back peddle once you stepped into an active battlefield. 

Maybe there weren’t handlers barking orders but that didn’t change what it was: a mission. That had to bring back something for the ol’ Soviet superstar.

“Just because you take off the mask, put him a new uniform and call him by his old nickname doesn’t change him, Steve.” Tony seethed quietly on a private channel. 

“He’s doing fine Tony.”

“No, he’s doing perfectly.” Tony corrected warily. 

He cut off the thrusters to swoop in and cut down the alien robotic creature Barnes had just leveled a gun at. It had been approaching from behind and Barton’s vantage point wasn’t enough to have alerted him. He cut down enemies with a natural skill that was chilling if not a bit horrifying. 

“Too good.”

“Afraid of being outshone?” Steve’s attempt at humor was overshadowed by his clear annoyance at Tony’s lack of faith.

Barnes looked up at him for half a second and then was shooting at the next one. Bam, bam, bam — perfect headshots without a single flinch. 

“Something like that.”

Once the last one was down and SHIELD had sent in the clean up crew they gathered in front of the quinjet. Tony’s mask lifted back as he watched the team clamoring in. Bucky didn’t seem unusually tense and he even complimented Barton on a shot. The archer simply inclined his head, apparently also just as hesitant on the former Hydra puppet being around him. 

On their way out of the debriefing Barnes hesitated and thanked Tony for the Si gun he’d been given much to his surprise. Tony had actually been reluctant to put such a powerful weapon in the hands of anyone who could turn it against his team but the sincerity was the most human thing he’d witnessed thus far. 

Tony mulled it over and eventually figured that Barnes probably was fixable and maybe not so bad. 

•• •• •• ••

If Tony could raise one complaint about having Barnes beneath his roof it would be that he did not get nearly enough time to play with the arm. 

Also, that the arm was attached to Barnes which came with it’s own drawbacks. Steve was always very strict about Tony’s playtime — giving him a sideways look if he even so much as dared to glance at a part of the arm that James did not report to be malfunctioning in that deadpan voice of his. 

Sometimes Tony got lucky and was able to poke around at its inner workings under the pretense of needing understanding of the surrounding circuits to correct whatever issue because, yeah Rogers was smart, but he wasn’t a genius and Tony was. 

Rules were bendable and lines to re-establish and toe. 

It wasn’t like their local Winter Soldier put up a fuss when he went the long way around to an issue. In fact was through such explorations he found the incredibly intricate nerve system that made it clear Barnes felt every single repair and poke and prod Tony did to that arm. 

Poor Steve looked ready to heave when his ol’ pal Bucky said the pain had always stayed ‘within acceptable parameters’ — read: he stayed conscious.

At the time Tony had his own private moment of horror. There was a thin veil between fascination on human/machine connections and remembering his own torture in brilliant clarity. But Tony was skilled in the art of compartmentalization and so he tucked it away to suffer over at a more convenient point. 

Tony had gotten to create and play around with a custom nerve blocker for the arm and — lo and behold — the resident genius finally figured it out. 

Rogers’ asked Barnes a good fifteen times after Tony fit the circuit in the control panel if he felt any pain. 

Each time Barnes confirmed he wasn’t in any pain at all and Tony was finally free to explore his way down from the outer circuit board in the shoulder down to what he suspected was a burnt out wiring that had limited the range of Barnes’ metal fingers. 

Tony considered a tasteless joke but figured the temporary truce with Steve was worth more than crude sexual comments with no one else to enjoy the Captain’s adamant denial they were an item present. 

Regardless of his unappreciated sense of humor, the arm was a wonder for him. The metal itself wasn’t anything found on earth though Tony had helped himself to the Shield database on known extraterrestrial materials in an attempt to find it and came up nill — save for a strongly worded email from Agent Coulson reminding Tony how no amount of money or skills in hacking could buy him off the Raft.

Tony was almost certain it was powered through the tesseract. How had a bunch of nazi morons managed to harness it without… 

Well, without the tin man becoming Ultron, boggled him.

“Tony are you almost done?” 

“If you want me to rush, Cap, I’ll do it. Rush delivery costs a little extra and you risk the chance of me shorting out the arm but heck, long as it’s quick.” Tony couldn’t help but snark in return — playtime was rare, he wanted to really take his time.

Steve glowered at him but did not press further — possibly because Jarvis announced that Steve was being summoned to the communal floor because Wilson was there. Tony didn’t expect him to go because he always hung around during maintenance and repairs. 

“D’ya mind Buck?” 

Maybe Steve was actually boning Wilson these days — that would explain why they were both so sweaty in the morning because honestly, who did cardio as frequently as they went on their supposed ‘runs’? 

Regardless never would it cease to amaze (and maybe disgust) Tony how the Brooklyn accent just sort of bled back into Steve’s voice when speaking with Barnes. Perhaps it was his own Manhattan snobbiness but the Captain America he remembered from his childhood had been somewhat eloquent. 

“No. I’m...okay?” 

Barnes gave him a sideways look, like he was asking permission to be alone in the same room as him. What was Tony supposed to say? 

‘Sorry you kill the parental units, no can do?’

“You’re good.” Tony said instead because, hell, even if he was still recovering from the whole ‘you killed my parents’ thing, the arm was too good of an opportunity to pass ups 

He glanced at Rogers who gave Barnes a secondary look to ensure that he really was okay with it so Tony added sarcastically, “He’s fine, Stars and Stripes. He’s being a good boy.”

“Tony.” Steve was ready to scold him and Tony didn’t want to sit through another Rogers’ lecture. 

“Go. Wilson is going to tell everyone that Captain America is not punctual.” Tony interrupted which, miraculously, worked. Maybe they really were fucking? 

“I’m never late — this isn’t a formal meeting,” Steve immediately countered but he took a step toward the doors. “Buck?”

“Tony said I’m good.” Jesus was there a smile on the assassin’s face? 

With the resistance one would expect from a new mother Steve walked to the door, paused to look back at Barnes, walked out the door, stared through the hall, turned back around and opened the door back up to ask, “Are you positive?”

“Mother of Christ.” Steve flashed him a look because, oh right, religion. “This isn’t a Lifetime movie, Rogers. Go.”

Steve muttered heatedly something that Tony did not catch but went up to meet the Falcon. Good riddance — Tony was free to explore the arm a bit more. 

The lab was a little too quiet though and Tony was well aware that Barnes had nearly ripped the reactor from his goddamn chest not that long ago. “Mind if I put on some music?” 

Barnes didn’t reply, eyes fixated on the glass wall. A lack of objection was pretty much a yes so he had Jarvis cue up his usual mix. He watched Bucky for any forms of agitation but his gaze was still fixed. Tony broke out his trusty flathead screwdriver, checked Barnes for any reaction and pried up the third panel down he hadn’t gotten to open. Bucky had reported that only the techs knew how to access it and if that didn’t spark his curiosity nothing did.

What he found was a technology far beyond Hydra’s time but relatively old by today’s standards. A USB-esque port, some elaborate motherboard with teeny tab poking out that looked an awful lot like a memory card. He turned away to grab the scanner he had been using as he opened the panels — he’d yet to find a way to get a scan through the metal so he had limited inner images of the arm and they were always warped by whatever energy core it had. When he turned back his eyes scanned over Barnes once more.

The Soldier remained in place, the corners of his mouth still a little curved which was more than a bit unnerving but maybe the lack of pain was meant more than expected. The first passover with the wand did not read and Jarvis suggested a different angle where the energy field would interfere less. Tony tapped his fingers against the table and then picked up the screw driver. Maybe an extra panel would give it more space? 

“Tell me if you start feeling anything. You’re doing pretty good so far.”

He got a jerky nod of confirmation which was all the permission he needed. Soon he had the fourth and fifth panels hanging open. The fourth exposed more of the elaborate system connected to the port. The third was a mess of tangled wires, some of which had melted together. The colors had faded and there was a not so good smell radiating from it. 

“The plate was never secured properly after the last official Hydra tech opened it.” Barnes told him, unprompted. “It does not seal correctly. Some fluid and debris get inside it.”

“Isn’t that bad?” Tony was curious as to how the arm hadn’t shorted already.

“I am still functional.”

Of course he was. He wasn’t going to be non-functioning until he was dead but that was more of Steve’s problem. Although the arm was sort of his job so maybe it was his problem too. Tony sighed in annoyance of another item to add to his list. 

“Ugh, fine. I’ll sort out this mess but that’s only if we don’t tell Steve that I touched other parts of the arm. Deal?”

“It’s a secret?” Bucky’s voice dropped low, hardly able to be heard. 

“Yep. Cross my heart,” maybe not ‘hope to die’ or ‘stick a needle through my eye’ because lord knows what this guy would do with that but of information. “Is it a deal?”

“Yes. A secret.” 

Bucky seemed immensely satisfied about it which should have raised alarms but he had been an assassin and if Tony had learned anything from Nat and a chatterbox Clint, it was how much they loved to keep secrets. Natasha did so in the more ‘ask me no questions’ way while Clint could talk endlessly about nothing. 

Tony threw himself into picking apart the wires, slicing through the silicon covering over them that had melted or stuck together with whatever goop had gotten through. 

He was spraying it down with a non-abrasive sterilizing fluid when he noticed Barnes’ squirming a bit in the corner of his eye. He glanced once and then twice wondering if the nerve block had shifted accidentally or stopped working and the man was in pain. Instead, on his third look Tony nearly dropped the bottle. 

The Winter goddamn Soldier was pawing at his crotch, staring into the abyss. Tony was caught somewhere between ‘what the fuck’ and ‘why the fuck’ as he turned around to face the tools laid out for his work. 

Any excitement (ugh, phrasing) had been sapped away by how stifling the lab suddenly was. It was abnormal behavior regardless and he probably should have said something but what was he supposed to say? Of course this would happen when Steve was gone. The universe was always looking for ways to fuck over Tony Stark — why not have a super assassin groping himself right fucking next to him in his sanctuary? 

“Are you done?” He was surprised Barnes had spoken to him, and even more surprised that he sounded completely unphased by his issue. 

“Are you?” It came out mean and Tony was grateful and regretful at all once. 

“I don’t know.” He sounded truthfully confused so Tony turned around, cringing at his flesh hand, heel rubbing at the obvious bulging. 

Tony officially hated sweatpants. Never again would he buy, sell, or look at anyone wearing them. 

“You’re — ” He couldn’t say it so Tony gestured toward him and a flesh hand snatched his wrist immediately. “Hey!”

He knew what was going to happen and that made it a million times worse. The flesh was turgid and way too warm through the fabric and felt wrong against Tony’s hand. He was thankful for the barrier of cloth but still, what the actual fuck was this malfunction? 

“Sir I am noticing signs of distress. Shall I sound an alarm or reach Captain Rogers?”

Tony’s mind raced through those options. He could try and call a suit but Barnes could snap his neck before that happened. Or before Rogers could get down there. He waited a beat for Bucky to offer some sort of threat or at least to give clarification on what he was doing and what harm would befall him if he stopped. 

Barnes was still staring off at the glass, looking vaguely pleased but otherwise unaffected by all of it.

“No.” Tony didn’t know if he was talking to the Soldier or his AI. 

“Very well Sir.” Jarvis sounded reproachful and Tony felt reproachful, so wasn’t that funny. 

It was strange that Bucky wasn’t exposing himself or even moving his hand against him. His hips did all the work and it ended quickly. Tony testedly applied additional resistance to his hold and Bucky released him. Once Barnes’ breathes were even and regular and Tony was still sitting there numb with shock, he finally blinked and looked at him. Tony felt himself flush, oddly humiliated by what he had allowed happen. It shouldn’t have happened, Tony should have figured out a way to stop him. 

“Are you done?” Barnes asked again suddenly. “I can’t move my fingers still.”

“Are you — ” Tony cut himself off. 

Of course Barnes was serious, he never made jokes. Instead of trying to make sense of what had just happened he heaved a deep breath. 

“Not yet. Can you control yourself while I put your arm back together?”

Barnes’ brow furrowed. “I didn’t fight you working on my arm. You said I’m good.”

In a weird way it had made him shoulder the blame alone because the guy looked so damned clueless. Obviously it had been something stony had done or triggered unknowingly. Could he blame Barnes for that? Tony repressed a shudder and decided that he just wanted to take a shower and pretend today never fucking happened. 

But if Barnes ever tried to pull that shit again, he was going to see if his super soldier cock could withstand a repulsor blast — and that was a fucking promise. 

( +1 - Sam)

A post mission gathering back at the Tower was a good way to decompress; good company, good conversation, no stifling loneliness or self reflection. 

Sam didn’t feel as alone anymore since he became a per diem Avenger. He didn’t isolate and pull away from people because they reminded him of Riley. That was an improvement — he was living the life he encouraged others to. Not that there was any quick fix or permanent reprieve from experiencing war or from watching your best friend die while powerless.

But no, he wouldn’t let himself get caught up in those emotions because had fought well and all of his friends were unharmed (save for some bumps and bruises from a fall Barton took but that was standard). Sam stepped into the kitchen to get some more chips — between Steve and Clint and Thor there was never enough food but the communal kitchen was well stocked. 

Steve offered but Sam had waved him off. 

As much as he loved the banter between the team, quiet was good sometimes too. 

His guard was down as he started to root through the cupboards. He didn’t hear anyone approaching him so suddenly having someone pressing against his side was a shock. Sam was already too far on edge to be rational. He saw a flash of silver and realized it was the Soldier attacking him. He twisted away and dropped down into a combat stance. 

The Soldier did not further advance, just cocked his head in confusion. Sam had to take a breath and count back from ten before he trusted himself enough to ask, “What are you doing?”

“You said I was good. On the plane. You said ‘you did good’.” Bucky phrased it as a question though it was more of a statement because, yes, Sam had said that. 

“Okay.” Sam was doing his best to go about this in a calm fashion. Like Barnes hadn’t just ground his erection against Sam’s hip like some horny frat boy at a party. “Why did you just press against me?”

“I’m allowed to reward myself.” Bucky blinked in confusion. “Right? Steve let me.” 

Oh no. 

“And Agent Barton.”

What? 

“And Mr. Stark.” 

Sam counted back from ten again and pressed a nail into his palm to assure this wasn’t some fucked up dream. It hurt so no, Bucky had been making passes at Clint, Tony and Steve and they thought it was okay. “So when you do something right you...reward yourself?”

“I don’t touch myself, I know better.” the Soldier said quickly and Sam’s stomach sunk to his feet. “I keep within parameters.”

“No Bucky. You can’t…” Sam paused, counted back down from fifteen this time because what was wrong with these people? They appeared so decent and moral but this — “Come with me.”

“Am I in trouble?” Bucky suddenly seemed more timid. 

“No. I just think we need to understand a little bit better what’s going on. Why don’t you go to your floor and I’ll be up in a second.”

Sam could see the argument revving up but he bowed his head and sulked to the elevator probably assuming he was going to be punished. Sam had to count down yet again and do the slow breathing exercises he taught in group before he leaned into the living room. “Hey Clint, Steve and Tony...I need to borrow you.”

Stark, in the middle of telling a story waved him off with a pointed look of irritation. “I’m in the middle of talking Wilson — surely your mother taught you manners?”

Sam considered saying ‘surely your mother taught you consent?’ but the bit of self control he had kept his voice mild as he said 

“It’s important. Please.”

Rogers had gotten up immediately and Clint just looked puzzled. Natasha prodded at him and he stood with a groan. 

“Don’t steal my food Nat, I know exactly how many pretzels I have on that plate — 47 and a third and don’t you dare chew off the nubs either because I’ll check.”

The Widow gave him a smirk that suggested she would do exactly that and Clint muttered, “Better be important,” as he stalked past Sam.

Tony dragged his feet and complained liberally as they went to the elevator. Once the doors shut Steve asked what was wrong. 

“I just had Barnes try and rub one out on me.” 

The reaction was immediate and interesting. Steve looked horrified; Clint was hyper focused on his feet and Tony’s stance grew rigid. 

“He didn’t hurt you did he?” Steve finally asked, the silence between them had stretched too long to suffer a moment more. “I should’ve said something him when he…”

Sam rose a brow as Steve trailed off cheeks flushing a bit

“I don’t know what kind of relationship you two shared before he was in Hydra’s hands,” Sam began — a tad bit judgmental because how could Steve have thought he was ready for something like! — but Steve cut him off heatedly.

“We were friends. Nothing more.” Steve dragged a hand through his hair. “He-he came in one night and I thought he had a bad dream or something and… God, I just didn’t want to embarrass him. It seemed…”

“Harmless?” Sam suggested and Steve dunked his head but did not offer up any other defense. 

Sam did get the sense that whatever gratification or ‘reward’ Bucky gave himself hadn’t been mutual for Steve. 

That didn’t make it better; it made so much worse. 

“And you two? Any reason you thought it was fine to get your rocks off with the Winter Soldier?”

“Stop the elevator.” Stark barked and of course the building responded. Sam had to steady himself it was so abrupt. “Not that it’s any of your business but I didn’t enjoy Barnes rubbing up on me either. He was...weird about it. I was trying to fix the damn arm and he just fucking playing with himself so I called him out on it and it… It’s like, it didn’t compute I guess. But then he fucking grabbed my hand and started humping it like some untrained dog.”

“Don’t call him that.” Steve snarled and Sam held up a hand to keep him stepping toward Tony.

Their arms were crossed, defensive by nature. But if Bucky had done that with absolutely no repercussions, was there a line? 

Sam glanced at Clint, oddly quiet throughout and had to swallow back worry. Clint was tough, an incredible agent...but physically weaker than Barnes. Steve had his own strength, Tony had an army of suits… Clint was the easiest prey. 

“Clint?” Sam was careful about his tone. If he was too empathetic Barton would feel pitied and it would make him defensive.

“Oh, uh, he just kinda rubbed against me and I thought he didn’t know what he was doing.” Clint shrugged. 

“Did you ask him?” 

“I was kinda in a spot where I couldn’t say anything and I didn’t have any aids in so — ” 

Clint gave another lame sort of shrug. Had he been physically intimidated? Held down? It was crossing all their minds and Clint could see it. He let out a sigh. Sam saw a flicker of something in his blue eyes that he filed away: fear followed by chilling vacancy and resignation with just a touch of desperation. 

“It was my fault. He signed asking if he could sleep and I was in the vents and I know you told me not to up there Tony. I’m sorry.”

“He cornered you?” Steve looked exceedingly horrified as the conversation continued. Sam felt the same. “Oh God, Clint I’m so sorry. Oh, God.”

“Not-not like that. Jesus.” 

Clint rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly but shifted back a bit. Sam would’ve told Steve to back off of it but it didn’t feel right for Sam to share something so personal. 

“It was like — well, I don’t want to say a dog humping your leg but uh…”

“Why are you in my vents Barton! Christ, I didn’t give you an apartment so you can live in my ceiling like some rat.” Tony exploded and Sam cringed on Clint’s behalf. “Also, why was Barnes in the vents? Who showed him how to access them?”

Clint shrugged and offered a half hearted apology. Steve huffed out a breath seeming deeply unsettled and agitated at once. 

“So it’s safe to assume that no one wanted him to do those things, so we have a very clear issue. Not one that you push aside as ‘one time thing’ because what if it had a stranger? Someone who didn’t understand that he wasn’t going to hurt them?” 

Sam considered adding ‘what if he finds out how much better it would feel if he penetrated someone’ but he’s pretty certain the point had gotten across. 

There wasn’t a need to further elaborate. Steve uttered another apology. “I’ll explain it to him,” he swore. “I just don’t want to embarrass him.”

“Right. Cap will deal with it, end of story.” Tony looked awfully relieved. “And Barton, next time I find you in the vents I’m going to release nerve gas.”

Clint snorted seeming relieved at the subject change. “You wouldn’t.”

Tony grinned. “I can’t wait to prove you wrong.”

The archer looked petulant a moment before he muttered, “You’d have to find me first.”

“Are you sure you can do it alone, Steve?” Sam leveled the Captain a look.

“Yes. It’s uh, I mean, it’s sort of my fault anyway. I should have said something when he did it the first time. I can’t even begin to apologize — ”

“Make it up to us by just never bringing it up again.” Tony interrupted. “Jarvis, bring us back down.”

Barton and Stark were gone the moment the doors opened and Steve gave Sam a weary smile. “I’ll deal with it. I swear.”

“If you need back up — ”

“I won’t. He’s not…” dangerous? “He wouldn’t hurt anyone like that, or at all. He just didn’t...realize.”

“No, he knew what he was doing.” Sam motioned for the door to close. Steve sighed and leaned against the wall. “He said was a reward system.”

“You already talked about it.” Steve pointed out flatly. “But you thought that I was taking advantage.”

“No, I suspected you and the others may have been taking advantage,” Sam shrugged. “I’m glad I was wrong.”

“If you already had this conversation with him, does it need happen again?”

“I got a run down of what he thought he was doing and why. We didn’t touch on why it’s not okay. I don’t know how much he trusts me.” 

Steve combed a hand through his hair. “Okay. Yeah, I’ll deal with it.”

Sam was curious as to how but he trusted Steve enough to step out of the elevator. He got a grim smile and gratitude for ‘bringing it to his attention’. Sam returned to the group and trusted Steve to help his friend heal.


End file.
